


Muddy Colours

by ChestyMcBigboobs



Series: Soulmate Saga [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Antisocial reader, Anxiety reader, Attempted Kidnapping, Awkward Romance, College Student Reader, Disappearances, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Kidnapping, Minor Original Character(s), Mystery, Romantic Soulmates, Social Anxiety, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Stanford University, Threats, Threats of Violence, mystery monster, seeing colours soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-04-27 06:17:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5037121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChestyMcBigboobs/pseuds/ChestyMcBigboobs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are pretty much a nerd who wants to be left alone. Solving a mystery in your own time and waiting to become a librarian before becoming just another statistic. When you splash into your soulmate suddenly nothing can save you from the truth. Shy, opinionated and somehow fearless you must crack the case before time runs out or worse... he catches on to your self sacrifice complex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Because Mythology Just Isn't Real Enough.

It wasn’t you but somebody enjoyed lighting fires. You looked down at the molten mess that was previously known as your favourite My Little Pony figurine. You didn’t quite get it but somehow you knew Pinkie Pie wouldn’t be so much fun at parties anymore. Not that you took Pinkie Pie to parties … or went to parties… or left your dorm.

It’s not that you didn’t _want_ to go out; you just didn’t like the idea of going outside more than what was absolutely necessary. Outside involved seeing people, seeing people involved being nice and being nice was hard and hard wasn’t fun (Occasionally.) so why would parties be fun?

Regardless, you turned a sob into a very depressed sigh as you scooped up the still smoking puddle of pony from the front of your door. Being _very_ careful not to burn yourself (Again.) you manoeuvred through your small dorm to the little bin, laying her to rest there. You would have to change the overflowing bin soon, you noted as you opened the small window overlooking campus, as to not set off the smoke alarms.

And that was your life over the past three weeks. Thursday nights composed of: Staying inside, being roused by a knock at your door, opening it to find a smouldering mess of one of your few possessions, cleaning it up, disposing it, returning to your bed, blogging about it while crying until you fell asleep.

It’s not that you were “different” or “antisocial” or that you didn’t like to put a label on things, you just though that the internet was a much more fascinating, entertaining and friendly place… aside from the Anon hate but _everybody_ gets that. At least that’s what you told yourself.

“No, I should probably get back to studying.”

Talking to yourself to end thoughts worked.

You padded with bare feet back to your bed, your grey oversized Stanford jumper falling over your hands doing its best to leave everything to the imagination. With your matching sweatpants doing their best to hide any chance of an ass you had… no life was quaint.

As a Literacy and Mythology major you had finished your four year bachelors in mythology and literacy, with one year of masters behind you. You had two months to go before you graduated and completed your masters and you left to become a librarian … Ah yes… “Winner.”

 You had long ago given up the strive for power when you decided that a PhD. Just wasn’t in the cards for you. Your inability to string sentences together meant no lecturing or speaking roles. Yes you could see it now, becoming a librarian. A very well educated librarian; don’t get it wrong but a librarian none the less.

You were smart enough that you had gotten a half scholarship to study at Sanford, while your family was rich enough to help you out with the necessary funds for the rest of your tuition, and spouting for a privet dorm with a bathroom (no kitchen though) was a bonus. You were ok with that. You had to get a job but the book store just outside of campus was hiring and you nabbed that.

And that was life. Don’t get it wrong, it was great aside from the stolen objects getting torched, that made your anxiety levels run wild but you know… _whatever._

You opened up your laptop and thanks to muscle reflex typed in your password and opened up Tumblr… more like tapped “t” in the search bar and pressed “Enter” who the hell logs out of Tumblr?

When your dashboard flickered bright and grey, you clicked the text post button and began typing a post titled “R.I.P. Pinkie Pie.” With a photo attached and a brief description of your time together. You had 88 followers that you were more than proud of… at least it was more than the West Bros Baptise church.

You jumped as a ‘1’ appeared by the little envelope.

_Samlicker81: REALLY?! AGAIN?! First Aqua man, then Shaun the Sheep and Batman (Which was just insulting B.T.W!) and now Pinkie Pie!?!?!? Is nothing sacred?_

You typed out a reply wishing her well and asking for more fanfics. Not needing a reply you shut the laptop and got ready for bed. Namely, getting into jammies before heading to the bathroom. It was like a really bad horror movie. You had gotten up to wash your hands when you saw the writing on your bathroom mirror. Big, Black and bold.

 “ **YOUR NEXT.”** You quickly retrieved your phone and snapped a photo. Then you did something that was bugging you and snapped another photo with the captain: ‘If you’re going to threaten _this_ literacy major, then YOU ARE wrong.’ You contacted campus security whose earliest convince was 6:30AM before heading to bed and catching up on some study.

The last thing you saw apart from ancient runes and legions of old were the words “ **YOU’RE NEXT.** ” It was a restless sleep.

*

“Dean I don’t have a good feeling about this.” Sam’s hair was messed slightly from the open window of the Impala. The spring air was spoiled by the smell of exhaust Dean loved that smell. It meant an open road and another trail to blaze. Despite this Dean could see his brothers’ discomfort but the lead had been for the very location that Sam couldn’t avoid forever. At least that’s how he saw it.

“Dude some douche-bags has been kidnapping innocent people for months. We need a case, _you_ need a case. We’ll gank this sonofabitch and we’ll be on our way.” Dean tried his hardest to make light of this for his brother but the little cues in his brothers’ face were making him doubt the importance of this case…. But he had a feeling…

Sam sighed relaxing a little.

“I know man. It’s just… That’s where I met Jess…” Sam was speaking more to himself as he held back the emotion still hot and raw. Out the Impala’s window was interesting yet painfully familiar.

“I know man,” Dean clasped a reassuring hand on his brother’s shoulder, a soft look on his face. The look reserved just for Sam. “Maybe it’ll be good for you. You can relive that happiness with all of its chick flick moments.” Dean pushed his shoulder shooting him a winning smile.

Sam shot him a bitchface causing Dean to chuckle.

“Who knows,” Sam teased, “Maybe _you’ll_ be the one having chick flick moments.” The look of shock on Dean’s face was priceless.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa Sammy, take it easy,” Dean covered, “Ain’t no one meeting there soul mate. And besides.” Dean’s tone dropped, “I am perfectly fine seeing things in black and white, I’m perfectly ok with that.” He suppressed a sigh but Sam could see the tick in Dean’s jaw that gave him away.

“Ok Dean… ok.” Sam let the statement fall to silence where the only sound was the rumble of the engine and wheels on the tarmac. Dean missed moments like this, hell he hadn’t thought of him finding a soul mate in _years_. The mark was gone and he was feeling lighter than he had in a while, the darkness was a thing they would get around to and he had his brother back, he had his _Baby_ back… everything sucked a little less.

They had had so many run-ins with Death it was getting embarrassing, considering Dean had killed Death that was saying something. They had even met fate and Dean had never glimpsed a look at his soul mate. He had been back in time, been to the future, been to heaven, hell, purgatory, he had been even been to an alternate reality and had never met her so why would he now? And why would anyone want him?

Sam had had his soul mate and it was the most wonderful thing in the world and he blamed himself every day for what happened. That had ended in blood, fire and black and white. Dean couldn’t bring somebody into that, into this life. She would die and he would have another reason to hate himself, it’s the pattern that had been formed over many years.

Dean revved the engine listening to his metallic other half purr as he shook away the thoughts. Cranking Zeppelin up to another level, Baby rocked down the highway. Tossing a grin to his brother who scoffed at his enthusiasm. Dean was on the fast track of life again, Soulmate far from his mind as he closed the distance to Stanford.

*

You were snapped away from your book by a sharp wrap at the door.  You placed your precious paper on the small coffee table making sure not to knock anything before answering.

“Who is it?” You grunted. Your voice was rusty from lack of use… yeah… rusty.

“Campus Security, we are here to investigate your enquiry.” The Deep voice seemed less than pleased.

“Took you long enough.” Muttering under your breath as you retrieved your glasses from beside your book on the coffee table. Thick rimmed and big they were perfect for avoiding direct eye contact in _any_ social situation. You had mastered putting them on with your sleeves over your hands. It was opening the doors you still had trouble with but after finally twisting the dead bolt you opened the door. Two very buff men, one with grey skin and no hair the other with darker grey skin and short curly hair, were standing in the door way. Big windbreakers with campus security on the Brest pockets and lanyards with their details around their necks they meant business. You stepped inside and gestured for them to come in. Once inside you showed them to the bathroom and watched them assess. They were chatting for a moment before they turned to you, you was trying not to seem like you was being nosey. You couldn’t see what their problem was, everything was _practically_ untouched.

“Um… Miss Y/N?” The one with hair spoke first. “Is there any particular reason the apostrophe and the letter ‘E’ are in different colours of lipstick?” he seemed almost uninterested.

“I’m a lit major.” You shrugged.

The two security men sheared a look before turning back to you. They were looking at you with judgie eyes, those judges. You _were_ wearing the same oversized jumper and sweat pants but nobody important saw you yesterday… you could risk the wardrobe double up, it wasn’t even a double up you changed your undershirt to a tank top, you changed your undies… we won’t talk about the bra. You pushed your glasses back up your nose, the guard didn’t know you only wore them to defer eye contact seeing as that was what he was trying to initiate.

The bald one cleared his throat as you examined your sweater clad hands.

“Yes.” You answered politely now playing with the hem of the jumper which stopped mid-thigh.

“Miss Y/N, there is no evidence here to suggest that there was a break in or that the message was written by someone other than yourself-“

“Are you fucking shitting me?” You finally snapped, face growing hot beneath your glasses. “You have my reports about my “destroyed” property. This has escalated to the point of not only, breaking and entering, theft and arson but now threats of malicious intent.” Your fists were clenched and trembling but thankfully hidden.

“We have more serious matters to attend to.” The second guard dismissed.

They moved past you to leave. It was when one of them angrily grazed your shoulder that you lost it. You kicked your foot out tripping one of them; he fell into the back of the first like bulky angry dominoes.

“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!” You raged. For the first time you looked at them, _really_ looked at them.  They were on the ground their expressions turning from anger to shock. They stayed on the floor gaping at you like fish.

“Get. Out.” You spat in little more than a whisper.

The bald one rose, eyes meeting your challenge. It was the one with the hair that had common sense, grapping others shoulders he turned him breaking the contact and leaving the small dorm. They quietly shut the door behind them.

When you were sure they had gone, you smiled and clapped your hands excitedly.

“That was perfect!” You squealed excitedly to yourself. “Apart from the yelling that was amazing! I should have become an actress.” Clapping excitedly you grabbed your case journal and jotted down the latest entry.

It was well known that campus security is run off their asses with the disappearances that had been happening lately. Only in the past two weeks had the cops caught up to speed. That was still no excuse to be massive dicks to distressed students. I mean sure it must be _really_ hard ignoring the only lead to pop up in the past month, I mean that shit takes skill.

Thoughtfully, keeping your journal on your lap, you closed your window and reflected on life for a moment. About six months ago a women went missing, no one had thought anything of it. Then another did. It wasn’t until the first student went missing, another girl, that there had been an outcry. It took two more to go missing before the cops caught onto a pattern. Someone was kidnapping students. You tried to tell them they were wrong, that it started before the students but either no one believed you or no one cared… you cared.

You see as antisocial as you were, you were considered a “background” character. For instance; if someone were to magically gain superpowers, you wouldn’t be the best friend they “have” to tell or “must” protect. And you certainly weren’t the person with the superpowers. No. You were the person that _might_ find out, the person who isn’t major to the plot, so it didn’t matter if you remained clueless.

The point is you were pretty enough for people to like you but ugly enough to not stand out or make people feel intimidated. People trusted you. And _that_ was what had led you to solving the disappearances.

You had solved parts of this case weeks ago. It wasn’t even hard, it just… happened. You had known the first two victims, the women. Then all you did was sit down in the lecture theatre on different occasions and catch snippets of gossip that floated around. And piece by piece everything came together bit by bit. Ok so maybe _solved_ was jumping the gun slightly but you could list the things you knew which the police didn’t.

The first: There were five victims, not just the three. Mrs Martian was from the bookstore just outside of campus. You found that out when hordes of people were suddenly applying for your now vacant job. You were (thankfully) promoted to fill her position but it was suspicious that no one had seemed phased that she hadn’t come into work for three days. “She was getting old.” Was the only response you got when you asked… she was only thirty five. And Miss Smith from the cafeteria, she was the only one who acted like she enjoyed her job; she showed you how to hold a lunch tray with sleeve clad hands. She was lovely and would sneak caffeine into the chocolate puddings during finals. Her mocha puddings were average but helpful none the less. The last three victims were at different levels of the same class; Criminal psychology.

Anyway, secondly; there was exactly one month between each victim reporting the first theft to campus security and then disappearing.

Thirdly; they were all told they were being paranoid and just doing it for attention.

But how did they all fit? Your knack for piecing together came in handy after the first student disappeared. Rumours began about how they had items stolen then burn at the steps of their houses, apartments or dorms. And then poof… they were gone.

The dots of Mrs Martian and the lunch lady didn’t connect until people were chatting in the book store. Some elder customers were saying how Mrs Martian was paranoid someone was stalking her and Miss Smith had called campus security.

The last thing you knew about the case was, two days after the message on the mirror appeared they were gone.

You were smart enough to know you had the kidnapper’s attention but if it was on you then everyone else had a month and time was not on your side to officially solve this.

You sighed and stopped looking out of the window.

You were fucked.

You needed a shower.

After washing your hair it was time for deep thought.

You didn’t like the idea of being bait but somebody had to stop this. The more you think about it the more you should have gotten into criminology… oh yeah, that involved working with people directly, you preferred to be a silent hero… actually you preferred to not be a hero. You were more good at doing the side kick to the side kick stuff then the, you know, confrontation… you were a fucking idiot. No correction, you were a dead idiot.

You shuddered at the thought despite the hot water.

You stepped out and turned the water off. It was weird but as you got changed the day seem slightly darker as you gazed out the window. It was still pretty early about 7AM. You didn’t normally wake up this early when you had a class starting at 10, but you had to because of life. That and 6:30 AM was the quickest campus security could get here. You would think for a prestigious educational facility that their security would be a little more up to scratch… that and _not_ somehow involved in the disappearances… go figure.

So far this early morning wasn’t a complete bust though… but studying was on the list until about 8:30 so maybe you spoke too soon but then you could read and reading was cool.

It was 8Am when you had officially done all the stuff you could before the morning class. It was time to read, and read you shall.

Pushing everything you could from your mind, you picked up the book you had sneakily printed out. You wanted nothing to interrupt the angst, brotherhood, angels, nice cars, demons, witch craft, which you had come to know and love about the Supernatural series. 

You had almost died when the author had gone on haitus with the physical copies of his books, assuming to be the end of the brothers journey. But low and behold the internet came through! Then secret copies of Kripke’s unpublished works became available, thanks to beckywinchester176 (who you befriended immediately). There was of course another haitus (referred to as hellatus from those in the know) but slowly over the past years more of his works were coming to the surface.

The one you were reading, which you sneakily copied, was titled: The Beauty In Red. You didn’t know if it was a beauty in the red or the beauty of red, and that was why you liked Kripke’s works. He was the most fascinating read in the way he described the world in both black and white and colour, it was really relatable.

It was this particular books location that had you fangirling. Stanford was not only your home but the place Sam had lost his home… it shouldn’t make you happy comparing things like that… you sighed clutching the pages to your chest as you thought about Sam once walking down these halls as you have and falling in love, finding his soul mate… I mean sure Sam was smart and amazing and fantastic, but Dean… you sighed again, Dean Winchester was, strong and brave, heroic and funny, loving and emotionally crippled… he was perfect. But _Castiel_ … You gasped at the thought of that grey eyed hunk of confused angel, he was your favourite.

“Book series regular”? You huffed out air at the thought, yeah, right. More like ‘Cas counts as making an appearance if his name is mentioned.’ He was in a chapter a book _if you were lucky._

You were thinking too much about the politics again so you stopped those thoughts and turned to your place in the book. You let the two emotionally co-dependent brothers, trench coated Angel and King of hell lure you into the spiralling world of torment, blood and deceit that was their lives.


	2. Not... Grey...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to taking a very small break as I'm getting a bit busy with life. I'll update when I Can XD

“I have a good feeling about this Sammy.” For the first time in years Dean was excited about a case. But that didn’t stop him feeling uneasy when he caught his brother’s nervous eye. Slowing the Impala down, her engine was the only thing to be heard in this silent, grey morning. “Ok so maybe not a _good_ feeling,” He confessed as he cracked open the door. “But it’s a feeling.” The scent of rain was heavy in the air despite being late spring. There was almost a prolonged electricity to it that was making the brothers weary.

Dean took a moment to wish he knew what colour his Baby really was. He stood, the pavement giving a familiar crunch as he moved his hand along the cold metal. If there was one thing that he never wanted to change it was her. He had built her from the ground up, more than once; he knew every part, detail, dynamic that made her, well her. It was not knowing her real colour that always set him on edge, the one thing he didn’t know for certain. He would have asked Sammie but he was afraid he wouldn’t understand the answer; also he didn’t want to bring up his younger brother’s soulmate more than he had to. Shaking the thought from his mind Dean stiffened and looked around.

Sam surveyed Dean with a keener interest than usual as he too stood beside the Impala. He doesn’t know what effects the mark still had on him but that didn’t matter for the moment. Sam twisted his shoe on the parking lots pavement. They had chosen this location to park up because he knew there wouldn’t be any traffic in the morning and secretly his eyes scanned the stairs leading into the grey building… he wanted to see the place he met Jess again.

Sam knew you could never forget your soulmate. He had experienced her death over and over again, surveying every detail, looking for things that had stuck out, cursing himself for not taking notice of the smallest details… but one thing he hadn’t done in the longest time was relive the _happy_ memories…

 Sam kept pushing the joys to the side over the years, focusing on the tasks at hand. Today… today was different somehow. Today he was looking at the spot that they had met and he was… he was _proud._

It took him as a shock as he found himself blinking back tears, yet… he couldn’t stop smiling. It was unusual for the pit of his stomach to swell with something other than dread but this happiness was something else.

Shaking his head Sam laughed. It was a happy laugh and a short laugh, but it was nice to smile again.

“What’s so funny?” Dean touched his face hoping there was no diner food still on there.

Sam took a moment to remember. Remember what colour the bricks of the building were, reddy brown, the glossy white of the window pains and finally the vivid blues and greens of the flowers that lined the base of the building. The colours he had almost forgotten, now the same grey as the pavement. And he pictured her sitting there, on the steps, revolving doors reflecting the light behind her, illuminating her… An angel playing with the flowers.

“I… I actually feel good.” Sam smiled before taking in his brother’s expression, a half smile. Then he blushed. “Right.” Sam deflected. “So what’s the plan?” Sam was looking everywhere but at his brother. If he told Dean he was right, God forbid the ‘I told you so’ marathon featuring the endless skyting Dean would have lined up for him.

There was a clap of thunder in the distance.

 Today was going to be _very_ interesting.

*

You took a moment to think about how you could have ever missed Kripke studying the building. You looked out of your window at the lumpy sky, just imagining what he saw… what he would have seen looking up from the pavement. A fat drop of rain landed on the window obscuring your vision. You went over and double checked it was closed. You looked down at the parking lot just for a moment before the brothers called you back to their world.

*

“What are you so happy about?” Asking as he looked at the darkening sky Dean wasn’t in the mood for getting wet; he just had their suits pressed and dry cleaned.

“It’s too early to be asking students’ questions.” He remarked as he examined his shoes.

“Yeah you’re right. This building is giving me the creeps anyway.” Rain began falling causing dark grey spots to appear. Movement in a window caught his attention. He shrugged his jacket around him and followed Sam away from the building. The Rain fell heavily as Dean breathed in the new smell of dirt, wild flowers and pavement. There was another flash as he looked back at the window. Sam cleared his throat lightly as Dean realized he had no idea where he was going and he was getting pretty wet standing round being clueless.

“Right lead the way, _nerd_.” He cast another look over his shoulder wondering what was up with today.

*

You zoned out just letting the scenes play, getting lost in the writing. It was drawing on a bit when Dean was grilling a professor about the importance of knowing his student’s names. You liked how defensive Dean got whenever other people didn’t do all that they could to prevent something, like disappearances, from happening. It was his natural protectiveness that sparked the relatability of his character. You sighed again in silent reflection.

But Cas was your baby.

You knew Kripke made every detail count, so the person in the window was probably the bad guy… ooooh what if they were a vampire? You liked vampires since Benny turned out to be a good guy. Or maybe it was Gabriel! You refused to believe he was dead, that shit didn’t fly right.

It was nice.

Your alarm sounded, barely audible over the pouring rain. You had twenty minutes to get ready for class and that was twenty minutes of mentally prepping yourself _or_ twenty minutes of getting ready… _or_ two minutes to throw on jeans get your shit and go to the lecture hall so you can settle in early, this way you’ll make minimal contact with… _humans_ and you get to read… yeah…. Plan.

It was Friday so the last clean clothes you had were light grey jeans and another oversized grey jumper. It was also _very convenient_ that the only _waterproof_ shoes you owned went perfectly with your outfit, a pair of thick heeled black boots. They were nice and it was the first occasion you have ever had to wear them and _in the rain_ was just perfect. You forgot that you couldn’t portray sarcasm through your thoughts.

You grabbed your laptop making sure it was secure and waterproof in the laptop bag. Thunder sounded outside causing you to jump slightly and almost trip in your boots. Holding your arms out you steadied yourself, swinging your hip you balanced your laptop bag so you wouldn’t fall over and that was it… you were ready to go.

You had a look outside as a flash from the window illuminated your bed. You looked at your journal with a nagging feeling in your gut, so you grabbed one of the plastic bags that were breeding in the ‘Mystery draw.’ You shook out the old batteries letting them join the pile of random mismatched keys and old takeout menus on the floor, which you would clean up later… fo sho, then securely wrapping up your journal and stashing it in the top part of the toilet.

On your way out from the bathroom, you quickly snatched up your book, just in case; shoving it loosely into a pocket of your laptop bag as you moved to the door. You took three deep breathes before opening and stepping outside. You quickly remembered your keys and glasses before making your way to class, opting to take the elevator rather than the usual stairs. You may be a nerd but you’re the ‘rather walk down flights of stairs’ nerd.

You had just pressed the close button on the metal doors when you saw that someone had fun last night. You could see the outline of breasts, thighs and two sets of hand prints stuck to the inside of the doors. _College._

You suppressed a blush whilst failing to keep down the giggles. You used a sweater clad hand to stifle most of it but when you stepped into the lobby the receptionist called ‘Mary’ giving you a strange look, you gestured to the elevator and full on laughed. You didn’t calm down until you stepped outside and took a good breath of fresh air. There was nothing quite like the smell of rain, or new books, or old books, or flowers, or leather, or coffee. You didn’t drink coffee refusing to have a caffeine dependency but you liked these smells. They would probably be in your Amortentia. You sighed as you looked out over the wet world. There was a flash of lightening as you realised you were the only Masters’ student stupid enough to not own an umbrella. Ten points to Y/N.

You swayed slightly on your heels as you remembered the words of your father, ‘you can run in heels, and you can run in the rain, just don’t run in heels in the rain. Been there done that, got the cast signed.’ That was before your mother pitched in. ‘I liked that cast it was pink… Isn’t that how we met darling?’ ‘Oh yeah… on second thought, wear heels and run in the rain, Y.O.L.O.” Your Dad forever speaking words of wisdom. You shrugged, why put off the inevitable?

“Y.O.L.O.” You said more to the rain than yourself.

Your new motivation didn’t stop you from squeaking as the first drops of rain hit. It was warm, taking you by surprise. You were actually enjoying the feeling of it as you carefully jogged to class. There was no one else around so you skipped occasionally, after a near face plant you settled with a brisk walk. There was a certain point with rain and you had crossed that long ago, the only thing that bothered you was smelling like damp wool for hours afterwards.

You were so caught up in your inner monologue; you failed to notice that your glasses were fogging up. They were so fogged, you didn’t notice the ‘Please Keep Off’ sign, the sign was masking a pot hole you landed in. You went down suddenly, a high-pitched shriek leaving you as you sunk, knee deep. It was the shock that got you before the thick wetness settled, filling your books. It was thick enough that your lack of balance and leg muscles made you drag yourself up to the edge, using your heavy hands to push yourself up. You crawled on the concrete for a while before you could get your footing again. Standing up on Bambi legs was difficult yet you managed, _somehow_. After doing a quick spot check of your supplies, you wondered how bad it could be.

 Your grey jeans were black with mud and the rest of you… well, pretty much drowned. It was in your socks… you had wet feet… you were pretty much swimming in your shoes… your jumper was heavy, beginning to sag around your shoulders you wanted to follow it to the ground and just cry… you stopped thinking negatively and took a breath of now thick, bitter air.

You took off your glasses to clear them with your sweater. You looked around gathering your miserable thoughts. You were not very far from the lecture hall where you had 10 minutes to dry out.  You put your glasses back on determination squashing your want to die. There was a thunder clap that made you jump, you stumbled backwards and your knees buckled. You lost your footing falling heavily on your ass with a squelch. This was not going as planned. You carefully turned to get up when your glasses fell off. You watched as they fell into the puddle.

The only sound was pouring rain and all hope leaving your body.

You took a moment to let dread sweep through you settling in the pit of your stomach. Now, you couldn’t leave them because people will ask you questions. You had to breathe. So you did. As you put your laptop bag to the side and rolled up your sleeves. It was about two feet wide, you could do this. You reached in surprised at how shallow it really was.

You don’t know how long you were fishing but the knot in your gut began to send spikes of anxiety everywhere, you were about to break-

“Yes! Suck my ass, BITCHES!” Your shriek of victory was lost to the electronic bell sounding. Five minutes to class. Fuck. You rinsed the, next to useless, glasses in the puddle before scuttling to your feet, snatching your bag and moving away from the area. People began flooding the pathways. Umbrellas up, moving swiftly, complaining about the sudden downpour.

You ran.

It was horrible and wet and tears blurred your vision. You could see the opening to the mythology department. Yes! No one was heading that way yet, you had a chance! You laughed and sped up. You turned to see the other students following behind not taking any notice you rushed your glasses on-

 “Ah fuck!” You hit something solid.

“-Shit!” You couldn’t stop.

 “What the!” You brought you both to the ground, something sharp caught your cheek in the tangle of limbs. You turned over at some point, your hair in your eyes. You couldn’t see, but you were on the ground. Squeezing a mass between your thighs you rolled and you were on top looking down at a handsome man with a chiseled jaw and perfect lips. You were close enough to see freckles on his nose

You were stunned.

He was stunned.

You were blinking down at him watching his surprised expression. His eyes were wide and bright, a different shade of grey to anything you have ever seen before.

“Fuck! I’m so sorry!” You tried standing up but your heels slipped causing you to fall and land on him heavily.

“Oof! It’s ok!” He croaked. The man shuffled up slightly pushing you down his body so he could sit up. You sat there breathing heavily, just looking at him. Students began to move around you and you realised the rain had stopped at some point.

“Oh Right!” You snapped out of your thoughts. You moved your head and felt a sting. You flinched. “Ow.” There was a flash as you watch the shadows fade highlighting his suddenly concerned expression.

“Whoa, easy there Sunshine.” The man brought his hand up to brush at the cut on your cheek. You closed your eyes at the contact. His hand was so warm and dry against your damp skin, you felt a spark or something, your heart sped up… no one has ever touched you like this, so tender. You opened your eyes and you saw his… they were… it was….

“Not… Grey…” You stammered. He was just as shocked. You were gasping at each other. Not knowing what to do. His thumb stroked lightly over the cut, the pain was bearable but this… this was… The scuffling of students settled as the final bell sounded.  You just kept your eyes on him afraid, unsure, excited…

He huffed out a smiled not knowing what to say, eyes still with yours. You laughed. You couldn’t help it. You smiled down at him and he half smiled back. You could feel him relax under you.

“So… you come here often?” You laughed at that, nodding you don’t think you’ve ever smiled so much. His cheeks darkened slightly as you took in his face again, he was beautiful.

Someone cleared their throat.

“Dean! Dean?” You both looked up at a tall man looking down at you. The man you were sitting on stuttered for a moment. You just kept staring up at him, his hair was dark but not too dark, it was like creamy black? Well it was long and nice to look at, his eyes were different colours and he was looking _very_ amused.

“Oh-oh right Sam this is ah… this is… sorry who are you? Apart from soaking wet?” He smiled at his own joke. You shrieked embarrassed beyond belief at how attractive he was and how horrible you must look. You hid your face in your hands the waterlogged sleeves wrapping heavily around your neck. You mumbled into your jumper.

There was a rolling chuckle you felt it move through you as he sat up straighter. You sat back on your legs and just started laughing with him. Another chuckle as you removed your hands from your face. He was level with you now and you took in more of his details, his light dark hair styled, he smelt like mud…. Oops. You laughed harder.

“Y/N,” you breathed wiping away a happy tear.

“Well you’re perfect.” There was another moment where you just looked at each other. Sam cleared his throat again. Oh right.

“Could you please um…” You looked to Sam a little helpless.

“Sure,” he smiled it was big and reached his eyes. You took Sam’s hand, it wasn’t as warm as Dean’s you noted; maybe it was the sleeves. Dean studied you, lips still parted; disbelief evident.

You held onto Sam firmly as Dean used his hands to steady your hips and lift. You almost slipped again but you managed to stumble up enough to be considered standing. You were still dripping as you leaned down, soggy sleeve extended with a grin on your face. He accepted the gesture not putting enough weight onto your hand for you to be considered helpful but it was the thought that counted. When he stood he stumbled into you and you giggled with a snort. Embarrassed you covered your mouth again. This is why you didn’t talk to people you laughed then snorted, then you were teased, then humiliated then-

“Now that was the cutest thing I have ever heard.” You looked up at his not grey eyes that were crinkling at the corners with a bright grin, smiling down at you, you could feel it, the love, the devotion the protectiveness… as you looked into his not grey eyes, you just felt time stop…

There was another light cough.

Dean’s eyes flickered in annoyance then sparkled apologetically.

Your smile broadened.

You turned on your heel then realised you were wearing heals and stumbled into Dean again. He caught you and swayed you up smoothly, his hands lingering at the small of your back. You had to ignore the wetness turning cold all around you as you extended your hand out to Sam who gingerly took it then wiped it on his jeans. You blushed and shrugged in apology.

“You’re really wet Y/N, let’s get you cleaned up and we can talk.” Dean spoke from behind his voice deep and gentle. You blushed and nodded your head, letting it fall in nervousness with a lazy smile playing on your lips.

You snapped your head up.

“Oh, I have class.” You turned back to Dean, eyes bright with fright. He didn’t step away as you expected and you didn’t expect his arms to tighten around you either. The giggle that left you was just unplanned. You were so small against him, yet you had no room to be shy with his boldness. You looked up him when something caught your eye.

“Holy crap what’s that?”

You pointed to the sky pulling your weatter (see what you did there?) fell down your arm so he knew exactly what you were pointing at. There were clouds here and there the ticker ones had passed on leaving light white ones.

Dean followed your hand, touching it with his own before bringing it down and kissing the back of it with those perfect lips.

“That’s the sky.” He mumbled into the skin softly.

You rolled your eyes playfully, “I know that, but what _colour_ is it?” You could feel Dean smile into your hand but he didn’t pull away and you wouldn’t let him. His stubble tickled against your skin.

“I’m not sure sweetheart.” He opened his eyes at that, their colour almost contrasting to the one above. You hummed in agreement.

“It’s blue.” Sam spoke up.

Learning from your previous mistake, you only turned the top half of your body towards the taller gentleman, looking at him with new admiration.

“You can see colours!” It was an excited squeak, “Can you teach me? Us. Sorry- can you teach us?” You were trying not to be too excited but you were done playing cool, playing it too safe. You wanted to know everything about the colours and the man who made them appear. You also wanted to know everything there was to see. It was an eye opener that was for certain and you wanted more; colours were going to be your drug and you never knew what it was like to be addicted. You looked back up at Dean whose expression was solemn yet soft. He was looking at Sam his face changing slightly from time to time; you had seen your parents do this; it must be one of those ‘silent conversations’.

“I’m sure I can-“

“Agent Kiedis, Agent Navarro!”  Another figure stepped out from the hall you forgot you were standing in front of. You quickly pulled your hand away from Dean, regretting it instantly, to cover it up with the wet sleeve again.

You recognised him as your Mythology professor; Professor Flitz. A short stout man who wore an overcoat two sizes too big and pants pulled up two feet too high. You were disappointed to see that his hair was still grey but his overcoat was … it was a horrible colour. Maybe not all colours are good? The closer he got the brighter it appeared to be. You had heard people calling him the ‘Mustard Man’, maybe it was the jacket?

Sam turned to face the professor as Dean stepped in front of you, shielding the view with his broad form. You took note of the blazer he was wearing, tracing the way it fell over his shoulders perfectly with your eyes, the colour was like a darker sky- a darker blue. This was getting annoying. You really needed to google that ‘colours for idiots’ book and have a read.

“Yes Professor?” Dean’s voice was gruff and to the point. You liked it. You resisted the urged to press your head into his back so you had a look around,

“I’m glad I caught up with you, one of my students hasn’t turned up for class. Seeing as how these are troubling times, I think that you ought to know.” You could see that everything was covered with a wet shine, you didn’t know what you were expecting but you were hoping so many things were a different colour than grey.

“Aren’t you the ‘Professor of Mythology’? It’s the Criminology students that have been disappearing.” Sam was suspicious.

“ _This_ student is not only _always_ early but never misses a day. Poor girl doesn’t even realise she’s my favourite.” You took a step to the side of Dean ignoring the uncomfortable squelch and wetness that came with it. You were ignored completely, except by Dean who used his arm to slowly push you back behind him.

“This wouldn’t happen to be the same student whose name you forgot would it?” It was Deans’ turn to be suspicious with anger to his tone.

“I _remember_ her name, Agent.” Your Professor was growing impatient with the sudden suspicion.

“So you chose to withhold information from us? Are you aware that is a federal offence?” Dean was cut throat.

“I am well aware! I just didn’t want you two bringing an innocent girl into this!”

“The other victims are innocent girls.” Sam interjected. You had a thought; you were indeed an innocent girl. You had purposely let slip you knew who the kidnapper was but you still didn’t fit the M.O.

“You are missing the point!” The Professor’s face turned a dark shade.

“Then enlighten us _Professor_.” Dean was annoyed although you couldn’t place why.

There was a moment where Professor Flitz just eyes Sam and Dean debating whether or not he should continue. He gave in and sighed.

“Unless this particular students’ soulmate showed up then she would be in my class right now _probably_ dripping wet and listening intently to my _fascinating_ lecture on runes.” His statement was rushed but he squared this posture as to not appear intimidated by the agents.

You weren’t that dumb. You knew he was talking about you but there was no way you were his favourite. You _literally_ didn’t do anything to be special. You made sure of it.

“Fine. What’s the students’ name?” Sam reached into his jacket pulling out a notebook and a pen.

“Um Pro. Flitz?” There were shocked expressions all around as you finally spoke up.

“Oh, Y/N! Thank the Gods.” The professor held his chest as he breathed out the tension. “I hardly recognise you without your glasses.” You smiled and shrugged.

“I got lost because I couldn’t see without them; the Agents _here_ were leading the way for me.” You lied easily. Because you didn’t often speak except to be polite and comment where appropriate, how could anyone know the difference? “This is _after_ I fell into the pothole in the courtyard.” You chuckled shyly as you gestured to your legs. “I was _going_ to be early but… and I wanted to go back and change before class started then we got talking and well here we are…” There was a moment no one said anything so you filled it. “May I have a pass on today’s lessons? The Agents need a guide.” You quickly explained as he frowned, “Seeing as you know,” you gushed fluttering your eyelashes, “I’m _your favourite.”_ You smiled cheekily showing that you wouldn’t manipulate the situation further.

“Oh well,” he cleared his throat, “ok sure, I’ll email you the slides.”

“Oh thank you!” You grinned. He grumbled out a reply before turning and walking away. You kept smiling, waving a floppy sleeve as he opened the door to the building. The second he was out of sight you dropped your hand and the smile.

“Interesting.” You pondered. You had a gut feeling this will have to go into the journal.

“That’s one word for it.” Sam and Dean turned to you with raised eyebrows, wanting an explanation.

“Let’s get me changed first?” You questioned gently.

“Did you want out of those shoes?” Dean rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. You tried not to groan at how his shirt strained over his bicep.

You shifted your weight hearing the squelch.

“Please?” You smiled at him, slowly reaching out a hand to hold his arm for balance, you looked up for permission, he smiled, you still hesitated before deciding the best bet was to roll up your sleeve again. Placing your hand on his upper arm you took off your boots and let the water fall to the ground. The longer the water poured the funnier the sound became. You were both struggling to holding down giggles as the last drops of water fell out.

“You two are honestly perfect for each other.” Sam shook his head but the smile he wore betrayed him. You looked to Dean who shrugged and winked. There was a jolt of attraction. It was sudden and perfect; discovery of a wink kink… nice. Or was it just the way Dean winked?

“Shall we get going?” You asked pulling your socks off one at a time. You wrung them out as well before stuffing them into your boots. The concrete was cold but it was much more comfortable.

“Ah yeah…” Dean hesitated, glancing towards Sam.

“Were you two like…” You moved a finger between them, “Before… because I’m all good with this being a plutonic thing.”

“What? No! We ah… we’re… we…”

“We’re partners.” Sam finished.

There was a moment as you let it sink in how that sounded.

Dean cleared his throat before answering.

“He means we work together.” He looked slightly nervous.

“I know I was just uh… teasing.” You blushed. “Right where are we going, your place or mine?”

“Let’s start at yours so you can get changed, then let’s go out for coffee, I’m sure you and Dean have a lot to discuss, like favourite movies, chick flicks specially.” Sam offered.

“Alright if that’s what he’s into.”

“Right we’ve got work to do.” Dean clapped his hands as you lead the way. There was something heavy about his new determination but you just didn’t know him well enough despite how you felt about him.

There was just something about today.


	3. Angel Playing With The Flowers.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff mainly, Falling for Dean, *Dreamy sigh*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really sorry about the delay.   
> I work in retail and it's that time of year.  
> That and I converted to a Cas fic for a while.  
> I was a little uninspired so I really had to dig for the connections in this chapter but I hope you enjoy it you soul mate fluff lovers XD

There was a quick discussion; you and Sam talked about where you lived and if they should drop you off. You declined their offer with the pointlessness politely pointed out. Feeling Dean’s eyes on you, the emotion a mixture of disappointment and something else you couldn’t place, were beginning to unnerve you slightly. You couldn’t describe the feeling of his eyes on you but you had to squash the mystery down for now. You decided that recording the things your professor had said was _slightly_ more important than needing a ride, which was pointless in itself or so you politely pointed out once more when they insisted again.

You just couldn’t shake the feeling you were missing something and it was really getting to you.

Sam insisted once more but alas you had washing to do and a room to clean… though they almost persuaded you to at least have them walk with you. In the end Sam seemed to understand but gave you a card with his and Dean’s number on it.

Saying goodbye was hard so you didn’t say it.

“So… uh yeah… I guess we’ll pick you up at five?” Dean was looking down scratching the back of his neck. How could such a tall man look so small? You took a moment to just watch him. Waiting for his eyes to lift enough so you could catch his gaze; there it was. That magic again; you smiled.

“If you are late _Dean_ ,” you warned in a dark tone. “There _will_ be consequences.” Quirking a brow, you hoped you weren’t coming across as too mean.

He perked, taking the bait.

“ _Consequences?”_ Half smiling, arching his brow in return whilst leaning forward slightly

“Yes.” You stated not knowing what to do. Eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips nervously. You couldn’t decide which frightened you more the perfection of his lips or maybe one day kissing them… one day.

“Like?” His eyes flickered to your lips then back to your eyes.

“I… Don’t know…” You stammered, shrugging. Waving your boots around dangerously whilst avoiding his gaze. “I don’t normally flirt and I always get embarrassed when they do it in movies… so I assumed _you_ would know what to do next….” Mumbling barely audible as you felt like child. Sam laughed causing your face to ignite with heat… you could have said _anything_ but _no_ you chose to _tell the truth!_

“Hmm, we really are different… aren’t we?” Dean questioned in thought.

“Yeah. I’m wet, you’re dry.” You offered a weak smile at your own joke, looking keenly at the ground spreading your toes over the cold path.

“I’m tall, you’re short.” His shoes entered your vision.

“I’m gone, you’re still here.” You quickly ducked away, skipping, before turning around seeing an amused yet bewildered expression; you saluted the agents with a sloppy sleeve before striding off, feeling the coloured eyes of your soulmate watch you leave.

Your newfound confidence lasted all of five seconds as you realised you had to do washing and you had a date…. With your soulmate… you had a soulmate…. You had met your soulmate…

This was horrible.

Oh Gods.

You looked to the now blue sky as you marched home, laptop swinging in a rhythm barely noticed by the sound of Deans voice echoing in your head.

‘ _We really are different aren’t we?’_ Everything _was_ different yet, the same… you have got to stop trying to write poetry in your mind. You need a pen for this crap.

You had to think about how this could have happened and why now? You know? Important things like details? Remember? Something other than Dean… what was his last name? Agent Kiedis? Agent Navarro? You didn’t even know his last name! For fucks sake Y/N!

And here you are thinking about your soulmates last name when you should be thinking about _why_ you’re soulmate suddenly appeared. You were a nice person? You gave to charities on occasion… when you had too much change in your wallet or if you got a sticker out of it, you liked stickers, oh and badges too. And you liked to pat cats and there wasn’t a stray dog who had an unscratched belly. It was the _people_ you didn’t like. The same people who were disappearing. The people you were sacrificing yourself for. The same species that was your soulmate and _holy shit_ was he a person.

You eyed up your building as it came into view, suspicious of the new colours it presented. You looked up at the brick, the detailing much clearer now, you sighed at the sight. Then you dropped your head, tired, cold and slightly hungry.

You let your thoughts wonder as you watched the foot path move cold, wet and bumpy beneath your bare feet.

How could someone so… _Dean_ , have been chosen to be with you? He was; come _on_ … he was… probably a serial killer; that would… that was a _lovely_ thought to have about someone you just met, who you could _possibly_ be spending the rest of your life with. Either a serial killer or a male siren; Who, would slowly lure you to your perfect death. Or even better a F.B.I Agent who, before now, never believed he would find his match in this cruel and bloody world. _Maybe_ He could even be a tortured, feathered, celestial being, torn apart from his grace because he dared question his orders in heaven so he might have a chance of finding you… but that was a best case scenario.  

Of course _you_ would get lumped in with a serial killer. Typical Y/N. Soul mated with the hottest piece of ass this world has ever seen and he happens to be a serial killing siren from heaven with a Law and Order fetish.

Crap you were really over thinking this.

Too many urban legions, myths, romance novels and fallen Angles before bed again.

 You stopped, looking up slightly and saw the garden by the stairs.

The flowers were in full bloom; dark, vibrant colours not unlike Dean’s suit or the sky, yet boulder more alluring. Pansies were one of your favourite flowers because of all the shades of blacks and greys; you always liked flowers for that reason. It was your way of finding magic in the dull world before the books and before…

Dropping your boots and balancing your laptop bag on a reasonable angle, you crouched down ignoring the damp uncomfortable protest of your wet denim clad thighs, to examine the flowers more closely. Exposing your hands the texture of the petals against your skin was velvet and fucking damp. You watched as the lighter colour darkened to almost black in the middle with small bright coloured spots in the centre… it was fascinating. You felt your annoyance fade as you watched the light dance off the droplets, rainbow reflections so small and magnified. You assumed the term was rainbow; your mom had used to describe the shadows cast by drops of water against a pendulum before. You smiled as you picked a flower from the stem then you realised… the leaves were almost like his eyes… but not quite.

You held the flower high grinning as you twirled it between your thumb and forefinger. Watching the drops fall the motion amazing, studying the dark to light colours dancing faster the quicker you twirled the stem. Your wonderment was cut short when you saw a discarded soda can amongst the shrubbery and you cursed the ignorance of the human race, forgetting why you were such a nice person in the process.

Someone cleared their throat.

Startled you fell sideways on your knees painfully; you managed to stop yourself falling into the bush barely by sacrificing your uncovered hands to the pointy sharpness parts of the garden you didn’t realise were there, being careful not to crush your latest treasure. Why does everything involve pain and sharpness and _embarrassment?_

You looked behind you, putting on the most innocent expression you could stomach to make, Big eyes and all. Apologizing for your existence? Y/N 101.

“Dean?” Keeping your eyes wide you broke out into a smile. Being mindful of your laptop and flower, you shimmied as smoothly as you could on your ass until you were facing him. He was looking away from you, a bit uncomfortable.

“Yeah I uh… H-hi. Y- Y/N” He stuttered at your name, you decided you loved the sound of your name on his lips, His eyes met yours as his shoulders slumped in apology.

“Hi.” You beamed up at him.

Seeing him from this angle was slightly intimidating. It must have shown.

Muttering something along the lines of “oh boy.” He sighed before grunting as he lowered himself down. It was an interesting thing to watch; this six foot something man in dress pants, leaning back on his hands as he stretched his legs out, knees bent. crossed at the ankles so he was facing you, as he settled in reclining on his hands.

This was something you didn’t expect.

You most certainly didn’t expect how quickly your eyes moved to take in his reclining form, how his pecs caused the closed buttons of his white undershirt to gape slightly or how his tie led down the solidness of his chest, over his middle… You tried to ignore the view of the area between his thighs now offered… you could perve a little… what? He _was your_ soulmate after all… Ok, so you were going to hell, might as well enjoy the ride.

When his eyes met yours he knew. You blushed; you were caught and it was embarrassing, this was embarrassing… you were embarrassing.

“You know…” you chose your next words carefully ignoring the almost permanent burn in your cheeks and the lesser burn further south, “I could have stood up?”

He was taken aback. “Yeah well…” he rubbed the back of his neck, “we seem to uh... I uh… w-we… oh wow.” He breathed out, eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked to the sky. You followed his gaze for fear of getting lost in his, well, everything.

“I haven’t done this since I was a kid.”

“What, look at the sky?”

“No; get a wet ass.” You giggled slightly; you hadn’t even noticed the dampness.

“Eh. That’s something you get when you hang out with me.” You move to reclined on your own hands before realising that was a bad idea seeing as how there were bushes behind you.

“What, a wet ass?”

“No… ok yeah that, but also like uh… like…” You were lost for words and slightly flustered.

“It’s ok, take your time.” He teased.

“Shuddup I’m getting there. Just let me think.” You thought for a moment.

“Don’t hurt yourself.” You flicked him the middle finger, he threw his head back and laughed loudly. It was a fantastic sound, deep and true. His bright smile made your stomach flutter in an embarrassing way. You closed your eyes willing a thought to come.

“I got nothing.” You admitted. Heart jumping unexpectedly, Causing a nervous sweat to break out, “So…” you began before awkward could engulf the silence any further, “you’re a little early.” You offered with a wave of your hand. You got a waft of a smell and gagged. “Oh…My…” Choking, you stammered for words. You _fucking stank!_ “I freaking stink!”

“Ew that’s too much information.”

“Here gimme a hug,” you lunged forward on your knees.

“What- no!” He tried moving away but you stood up instead, laughing twice as evilly as you did so.

 “Common, I need a shower and you need to explain your impatience.” You raised a brow again, taking in how different he looked when _he_ was the one on the ground.

“What? A guy finds his soulmate and has to explain why he's tracking her wet footprints to give her back these?” He stood up digging in his coat pocket and handed you a broken pair of thick rimmed glasses.

“Oh Shit.” You reached forward and took the glasses inspecting them. They were broken alright, glass missing and everything.

“Yeah? See? I thought you would need them to you know see?” He nodded his head to the side a soft smirk on his lips.

“No I mean, _shit_ that’s a lame excuse to meet me. You thought I wouldn’t have a second pair?” You threw at him.

He took a moment to blink and open his mouth a few times.

“I’m just busting your balls Dean. A bit of duct tape and she’ll be right.” You shoved them carelessly into your boots, shrugging at the casual phrase you had read in a book once.

He gestured to the doors, “Shall we?” You nodded with a small smile and gathered your things.

You were taken away by how naturally you switched roles, how easy it was to talk and just be you.

When you entered the lobby you saw the colours an off shade of the mustard colour you were beginning to distaste like really hard-core.

“And this is where I decided I didn’t need an umbrella.” You opened your arms to the room. Taking in the space, the way the light from the window illuminated the floor… the carpet was really dirty yet dry under your cold toes.

“So you decided to run, in heels, in the rain?” You watched him move beside you, bowlegged and perfect.

“Just like Daddy taught me.” You practically sang, swaying through the space.

“Does your dad specialize in encouraging potentially dangerous behaviour?” He was teasing but you could see the question in his eyes. Your heart jolted at the thought of him meeting your family.

“Do you have any idea what you are asking?” You could imagine it, him smiling as stood outside the door to your parents’ house _together_ for the first time. Dressed in his suit, stubble sculpted, eyes bright with the crinkles in the corners, flowers in one hand, the other scratching his jaw in nervousness-

“I’d like to meet him.” He insisted, your heart throbbed strangely causing you to half laugh covering your breathlessness. You thought about how he would ring the doorbell.

“You have no idea.” You shook your head thinking how your Dad would answer the door just to point a flour gun at Dean.

“No really I would.” Dean pushing you aside so you get hit least from the puff of white.

“NO _really_ , you have no idea.” Dean covered in flour.

“He sounds like a _fantastic_ role model.” Dad high fiving your mom, as _you_ hosed Dean down.

“Was that sarcasm?” You asked; this resulted in a water fight.

“Was that a yes?” You snapped out of your domestic daydream as it escalated to something _more_ than just a water fight.

“Don’t answer my question with another question, it’s rude.” You said shaking another blush from your cheeks.

“You’re rude.”

“Wow. Witty.” You rolled your eyes to mock him lightly.

“You’re Witty.”

You laughed at how offended he looked and then lightly swiped at his at his arm as it turned to a smirk. You hadn’t felt how your heart race before you realised you weren’t breathing as often as you should. He really was taking your breath away.

You noticed something you hadn’t before. Your heart had yet to stop fluttering. It was heavy and loud in sound but light in beats, it caused your chest to tremble slightly if you breathed deeply.

You had never felt this before.

And every thud was a remainder of that.

He stopped and you were jerked from your feels.

“Um…” He looked around. You were between the lift and the stairs he turned to you not knowing which to take.

“Elevator? Even though I’m normally a stairs person.” You admitted.

“Oh God, why?” He was genuinely questioning your motives.

“Because I need exercise?” You offered, curious.

“First of all; No, you don’t and second; but at what cost?” You breathed out a laugh which turned to a giggle. Still giggling you moved from the stairs he was eyeing wearily.

You high fived the button with too much enthusiasm; it broke. You both looked at the shattered pieces on the floor, dead.

“It’s where it wants to be.” You said. “It was a brave and noble button that served its purpose-“

“Are you giving a eulogy to a button?” He crossed his arms in a mock scorn.

“Shhh! It’s rude to interrupt!” He chucked crossing his hand in front of him bowing his head in respect. “Purpose with a mighty light in the darkness.-“

“Did you break the button?” Mary poked her head around the corner eyeing you suspiciously.

You jumped back; it seemed that _other people_ were an actual thing in _reality._

“We found it like that.” You lied quickly.

“Ok good, because it _sounded_ like you broke It.” She teased.

“Who? Me?” You feigned shock. “Why would _I_ beak the button?”

“Because you _always_ break the button.” She laughed rolling her eyes.

You turned to Dean, expression innocent.

“Sometimes elevators need a high five to _lift_ their spirits.” He snorted, before chuckling.

You waved to Mary when the doors opened you grabbed Dean’s hand and pulled him in suddenly energetic.

You watched the doors close and you blushed fiercely. Dean cleared his throat.

“Well… someone had fun last night.” He indicated with his head amused

The imprints were still there with a post-it note.

_’Really, guys? It won’t fucking buff out.’_

“Well that’s a passive aggressive post it note if ever I saw one.” Dean’s comment fell to silence. It was like he could read your mind. You hoped he couldn’t as you were trying to think of something dumb to do instead of making your own marks that would put the ones there to shame. So you thought for a moment.

You shrugged taking your eyes off the smudge.

“College.” Was all you could say.

He smiled at that eyes crinkling at the corners.

“College.” He repeated gently eyes gazing into yours. There was a mystery behind those eyes, a dark one; it’s funny how suddenly seeing colour could give you so much perception of so many things. You were so used to avoiding eye contact that when you made it you could notice things, seeing as how Deans were the only eyes you have ever committed to looking into, you were only a little surprised.

He shook his head snapping out of something.

 “So, what floor?” He asked hands in his pants pockets.

You looked to the button board before snapping back to reality. You knotted your brow.

“I-I’m-“ you put a hand over your mouth realising you hadn’t coved your hands since the garden. You waved one over the six buttons.

“This one?” You hovered over the middle one. You swallowed thickly as you broke out into a sweat. “No… this one?” You hovered over a different button, “Or maybe this one?” You could feel the pressure of his gaze, heart racing now you held your finger over another button before moving onto a different one.

“You have no idea what floor you live on.” You ignored him.

“This one!” You pushed ‘B’ for ‘Bedroom’. It lit up.

“No that-“ Your stomach lurched as you went down. “That’s the basement.”

“Oh… dangit.” You waited a moment before the doors opened to a well-lit corridor, then they shut again and there was silence. You started moving from foot to foot embarrassed. ‘Who forgets the floor they live on?’ ‘This guy!’ *points to self-*

“How long have you lived here?” You couldn’t read his expression and you didn’t want to meet his eye for fear of seeing disappointment. You looked down rubbing a toe into the black carpet.

“Five and a half years.” You mumbled.

“And _how_ many times have you used _this_ elevator?”

“Some days but only to go down.” You admitted.

“O.K.” He breathed out slowly, “how about we try every floor until you recognise which floor is yours? How does that sound?” You flickered your eyes up slightly. He was smiling.

“Better than _my_ plan.” You shrugged.

“Oh?”

“Just push random buttons and hope for the best?” You smiled blush deepening heart still loud.

“… that _is_ the plan.”

“Mine had no particular order…” You chanced a look up, he was grinning at you.

“Screw the rules.” It happened so fast. One second you were plotting your demise the next your back was pressed to the doors his hand on you cheek and lips hot on yours. They were soft and worm with a hint of coffee and mint, you pulled back in shock you look at him with a renewed curiosity taking in his flushed cheeks and dark bright eyes, you nodded. His mouth locked with yours caution to the wind, mouths fighting for dominance. His tongue swiped your bottom lip, moaning you let him win. Moving your hand to touch him, you found his tie pulling him down to you with awakened urgency. He lifted you by your hips back flat against the door moaning as he gave in to what you both wanted. Your stomach twisted as he pulled away. You were both panting breathing mixed foreheads touching, feeling the warmth of his skin.

“Y/N? Y/N! Jesus Christ where did you go?” You snapped out of your day dream. Dean was looking at you wide eyed and worried.

“Ah fuck, sorry. Sometimes I just wonder off.” Like when you thought of why Kripke’s author name was Carver Edlund but his real name was Chuck Shurley but it was all confusing and Kripke was catchy so you chose that.

“That’s cute.” You startled then blushed looking at him confused. “When you zone out like that… you make this face… I think it’s cute…” He muttered off a light blush to his cheeks, you pushed the button as your stomach lurched. You could feel the temperature rising as you both stood there blushing at the doors, you trying to think about anything except the daydream you just had.

Every movement, every second felt warm when you were with Dean; though you were still drying out. His eyes were on the door and time did that standing still thing again. The light flutter in your chest was beating steadily in a nervous rhythm but everything was in prospective now. You had just been coasting along, going with the flow, never wanting to step on toes or insult anyone, so you kept to yourself forever walking on eggshells. Now however? Now, you wanted to stomp on the shells and yell at the world that they were wrong, that _they_ were the weird ones. You were in love and perfect and you had a reason to rebel, to fight, to live… and you were going to be kidnapped tomorrow.

Your eyes began to burn.

You were going to solve this and come back to Dean and you’ll _laugh_. You’ll laugh about this and he’ll probably hate you but you can live with forever having to win him over, because you’ll _have_ forever to win him over. You’ve been doing that with people your entire life because it was polite; with Dean it was mandatory. A need to protect him almost primal, ignited in you when his hand brushed your cheek. You were reborn new, confidant and strong-

He glanced at you. You hadn’t realised you had zoned out looking at him.

Your stomach fluttered as you giggled, blushing and looking away feeling giddy with the tingling need to squirm.

Ok, maybe only a _little_ more confident.

He chucked before the elevator stopped.

Feeling gravity restore itself you both stepped out into the corridor looking at the white walls. You saw a strange off coloured mark you hadn’t noticed on the ceiling for years.

You chuckled.

“First year they had a hot dog eating contest.” You began examining the thick line along the ceiling, it wasn’t big just a couple of inches long. “They were giving out free mustard for the person who could deep throat a foam finger-“ you heard a deep noise, you looked down to see dark eyes boring into your own. “I _knew_ the guy who won.” You laughed playfully, “Don’t get any ideas. I _can_ be dexterous sometimes hence the condiment stains on the ceiling, everyone forms a different shape depending on what the person in the corresponding room was like, see this one here?” You pointed to a stain which looked like a tick, “she was a bitch so I marked her as mean, this one here,” you pointed to a crescent moon, “Total fuckboy.” He chuckled as you continued walking talking about the marks.

“And this one?” He pointed to a bug circle splat.

“An incredibly misunderstood individual whose mother thinks they are cool.”

“Sounds like a nice guy.”

“Yeah, I _can_ be.” You were about to fumble for your keys when you noticed the door open ever so slightly. Dean must have too; he pulled his gun out suddenly.

“Get behind me and stay here.” His posture suddenly tense and alert, voice gruff and hushed. You nodded dumbly; he was in control of this you just had to control your breathing. You were shocked the gun was big and silver; he held it as if he had a thousand times before. You weren’t only shocked at the break in or the gun, you were shocked at how utterly _delicious_ he looked holding it.

He looked to you for your reassurance more than anything. You licked your lip supressing a shudder. He was shocked; there was a loud crack from your room. You squeaked, scared jumping behind Dean; the moment forgotten as he advanced silently. It was odd not seeing the smile on his face.

He used his gun to nudge the door open.


	4. Doughnuts vs. Budget Cuts & The Mystery of Blue Steel.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your's and Sam's P.O.V

Adrenalin was working through you. Every breath shot a spike, hot and sharp making you super alert as Dean headed into your room … you couldn’t help but watch his ass.

He opened the door so quietly, when he moved forward you tried to follow. He turned his head sharply showing you a hand as a message to keep still. You swallowed a lump in your throat but you shot Dean a thumbs up as he slinked into your room. You held your breath as you watched him disappear, your heart the only noise so loud in these empty halls.

You waited.

And waited.

Ten seconds was a really long time to be on your toes outside your door with your soulmate armed and dangerously sexy on the other side…

Holy shit!

He was _unsupervised_ in your _room!_ And… and you had to wait.

There was a thud; you jumped back clutching your chest. All breathing on hold as you focused your hearing and stared a hole through the door. Was Dean ok?

“It’s all clear!” You jumped with a squeak, Dean had called from inside... it must have been more than ten seconds.

 You were still uncertain as you entered your room. It was a fucking mess. More so than usual. Everything, with the exception of the bed, was tipped upside down or thrown on the floor; Books, papers, coffee mugs, what remained of your figurines, were all over the place. The shelves of the bookcase had been swept clean and pushed away from the wall. Someone had been looking for something.

“They got out through the window.” Dean said looking around, “not before breaking the mirror in the bathroom.”

“But we’re on the fourth floor…”

“That’s what I need to figure out; I have to make some calls.” Nodding you carefully moved your way to the bathroom which in itself was a mess, you saw the cracked mirror. A piece was missing, You looked down in the sink where a shard had fallen, you picked it up and studied it for a second there were a few lipstick lines on it while the rest of the mirror was now clear, despite the cracks. The shard was large enough to still reflect. Something flashed.

Carefully you picked up the shard by your thumb and forefinger. Holding it away from yourself, you moved over to Dean who was by your bed talking on his cell phone looking out the window. He saw you and raised his hand whispering frantically. You couldn’t make out what he was saying so you threw the shard onto yesterday’s paper and started to clean your room. It was normally chaotic in this iddy bitty living space but it was considered _organized_ chaos. Now it was just terrible. After a while you felt a hand on your shoulder. You looked up from the papers you were stacking.

“Hey, how you holding up?” His expression was kind while the colour of his eyes sparked with dread. It wasn’t reassuring in the slightest. You shrugged anyway.

“Yeah I’m just…” This was your chance to tell him, come clean, show him your journal! He was an agent, he would understand. “A little puzzled as to why someone would trash my place; I must have left the keys in the door by accident.” You shrugged again before sighing, “it was a mess before but this is ridiculous.” Dean looked at you for a long time, feeling shitty you looked away and continued to stack the papers and by stack you mean jumble up so he couldn’t see your shaking hands.

“Here, I’ll sort this stuff out, you go have a shower and get dry. We’ll talk after.” His words were not unkind yet you could hear the gravity they held, it was going to be a long conversation. He passed you a towel you thought you had lost.

“Oh shit!” You had completely forgotten.

“Yeah, you smell like a dead dog.” He teased.

“Hey don’t be rude you… you Assbutt!” You hit his arm as you got up.

He shook his head dismissing something “Wow that was uh… really clever Y/N.”

You shrugged grabbing your P.J’s that were under your untouched pillow, “I have many moments Dean. They are few and far between but they occasionally happen if not by accident then not at all.”

He chuckled again, a weird expression crossing his features as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“How are _you_ coping?” You asked.

He looked up, shocked. “Why are you asking me?” He was wide eyed and blinking fast like he was genially shocked at your question.

“Your soulmate’s room gets broken into and trashed… you’re an Agent. You’ve gotta be freaking out, wondering what kind of person I am and what effect I must have on people in order for someone to  just lash out like this, especially towards me. Not only that, but you’ve only just met me and now “ _Drama”._ ” You sang the last part whilst smiling at him.

“Yeah, well,” he smiled softly, “I just wanna know what type of lunatic would go through a women’s bed. Stuff- stuff is one thing but the bed?”

You looked at your untouched bed; you never really noticed that you never made it, just kind of use it to store things and sleep and blog… it was a mess. A total nest of books, papers, clothing, pens, pencils, pictures, flash cards and probably food- was that chocolate?

“Yeah,” you hesitated, “what jerks.” You nervously scuttled to the bathroom before shutting the door to die of embarrassment.

*

“Hey Sam?”

Dean asked watching her skip away into a slow walk.

“Mmm?”

“Were you ever able to watch Jess walk away?”

Sam paused to think for a moment, the smile on his face was unavoidable.

“Once… _almost_. She was so graceful it didn’t count as walking more like… gliding. After I saw her, I knew I could never watch her leave.”

Dean watched you for a moment; studied how you skipped slightly every few steps. It was the most interesting thing he had ever seen; almost like he had never even noticed how a simple thing, like, walking, could be so beautiful, so awkward, so very… Y/N. In the end he followed you. It wasn’t the skipping which compelled him to do so, it was how you stumbled every time you looked up, distracted by the sky… a weird, awkward dance.

“I’ll catch you later Sammy.” He didn’t hear himself saying.

“Dean! The case?”

But Sam was speaking only to air.

Sam needed a plan, he decided to go back to the campus security office which had given them the lead to the next student by accident. The security guards had just arrived and were complaining about a dorm visit with a student, who had apparently, made up a story about breaking and entering with a suspected vandalism complaint thrown in. They had brushed it off as a lonely, nerdish girl wanting attention. It was Dean who connected those dots and was able to snag the class number for the dean in charge of the dorm. Sam tried for a name of the student but only got the name of the dean, Professor Flitz. All of his and Dean’s attempts to get a name were shut down. It was when they were rudely escorted out of the small building by their intern that they knew they were at a dead end.

They hadn’t found the pattern yet. From what they understood this wasn’t going to be a normal Salt n’ Burn. The girls were disappearing every full moon and they only had one day left before the next victim would be taken. The clock was ticking and Sam’s mind was screaming Werewolf but it wasn’t sitting right. Bodies had yet to be found, especially bodies with missing hearts. Also there have been no other disappearances in the closer towns surrounding the university either. Something wasn’t adding up. This was weird.

Sam took a moment to think about that as he walked. _Weird._ Everything about this was weird. From being at Stanford, to the campus security pretty much _letting_ these people get abducted, Dean finding his soulmate... Despite the circumstances he smiled at that. The look on his brother’s face was priceless. His puppy dog look of both awe and pure terror; how he looked head over heels and _happy_.

He didn’t even notice when Sam took the picture.

The bell of a door opening alerted Sam to where he was; outside the campus security building. Three figures were walking away chatting. Sam spotted the two large windbreakers of the Campus security officers and the receptionist, which just left the intern unaccounted for.

Sam approached the small square, box like structure which sat at the entrance to the campus like a silent, rather under dated, watch tower. If the peeling paint wasn’t a giveaway that security needed to spend less on doughnuts and more on upkeep, then the falling letters now spelling ‘Caps Surity’ should have been.

“No wonder Security is shit.” Sam’s muttering subsided as muscle reflex kicked in, checking his pockets for his badge getting ready to flash it off if need be. Going over what he wanted to say, he only just noticed the sign on the door.

“ _Gone for lunch. Back in 5.”_ How long was lunch and how long was five minutes? Knocking loudly on the door he waited exactly one minute. Nobody home.

 Sam smirked at his run of luck and removed his lock pick from his pocket. He would have to call Dean in soon but until then he could spend some more time with Y/N. There was work to be done.

Opening the door in record time, he took in the office space. The receptionist’s desk was beside a copy machine and water cooler with only one door behind it marked “Viewing Room.” It was almost depressing but the white walls and the grey carpet gave it an oddly clean feel, almost too clean. Sam began searching the desk for anything at all. He found a key Labelled “Viewing room” In just the third draw of the desk. That was convent. Turning to unlock the second door he felt his pocket vibrate as he entered the room. Looking around at the monitors lining the walls of the second space there was a shelf of files and tapes to the left with a small open window to the right. He saw it was Dean then answered.

“Dude I’m kinda busy-“

“Someone- Some _thing_ was in her room.” Dean was panting on the other line, his voice was strained and wavering.

“Wait-wh-“ Sam had to steady himself on the book shelf to mask his own fear.

“The bastard jumped through her window Sam!” His breathing more laboured like he was trying to keep it together.

“Wait. Hold on. Do you mean?”

“I think- I think she’s next Sam?” Sam couldn’t help his heart sink when his brother’s voice broke. “I’ve known her an hour and… I can’t- not Y/N, Sam.” The pleading in his older brother’s voice was too much. Everything within Sam became raw and hollow. This was the last chance for both of them even he knew it. With the darkness unleashed and no way to stop it, he should have known Dean’s soulmate would show up just to give him one day of happiness before it all went away again. Permanently. This signalled the end of not only their final chance at peace but for the world. Because if Y/N died. Dean would be lost. And there would be no bringing him back not from that.

“We’ll- We’ll figure this out Dean- I- you _know_ I won’t let anything happen-“ Dean was never one to get emotional so to hear him breaking down like this was beyond Sam’s ability to handle.

“I know man I know… I’m just freaking out right now, they-it wrote on her mirror… in two shades of lipstick, I really don’t know what’s going on there’s a- is that a, horse? There is a charred horse in her trash Sam.”

“Dean, where is she now?”

“In the shower, she’s singing… her mouth fills with water and she chokes on it a little but she keeps going… Oh my God! I’m never mocking your chick flick moments again!”

Sam smiled before catching his sleeve on the shelf, pulling hard he knocked the shelf forward causing the tapes and files to fall and scattering everywhere just like his hopes of coming and going unnoticed.

“Fuck.”

“You alright Sammy?”

“Yeah man, I just- I knocked everything off the shelf, this place is falling to pieces. Look you just keep looking after Y/N, she’s in less danger when you’re with her. Find out what she knows and we’ll figure something out.” Grunting as he began to pick up the books and files that _were_ on the shelf. He had a passing thought, he wondered how Crowley would insult him… something along the lines of _‘you’re like a moose in a bloody china shop’_ , seemed accurate.

“Ok Sam. I just- I can’t- what if- what if she freaks out and leaves- or- what if I don’t know what to say! I’m nervous Sammy.” Dean was whispering, hurriedly into the receiver.

“Dean, stop. It won’t happen. I’m in campus security’s office right now; I’ll find something, anything! Dean just- just try to-find,” arranging the tapes as neatly as he could on the shelf, He noticed how one didn’t fall. “Stay calm and Dean I’ve got this.  I’ll call you back.” Hanging up he pulled the book, the shelf clicked and moved away from the wall. Eyeing around the room one more time whilst pocketing his phone, Sam had to push the literal nightmares of his past out of his mind to focus on the task at hand.

 There was work to be done indeed.

*

The shower was everything you needed to relax and wash away the strain of today. You were thinking about what colours were out there, then your favourite song when it hit you. Dean was in your room… _alone._ You paused a moment mid song, you thought you heard Dean saying something about a horse before soap got in your eyes and you had to wash it out _before_ you were permanently blind.

You took your time making sure the smell was gone and you were fresh and ready. You thought about what you had to write down in your journal and how nothing was fitting; none of the other victims had reported a break in the day before disappearing yet here you were… perhaps they had given up in the shitty system so they didn’t have to.

You quickly got out, towelled off hurriedly, putting your P.J’s on, water dripping down your nose, you did your hair in the towel knot and opened the door. You gave the bathroom a quick tidy ignoring the mirror and took a deep warm breath in… Dean was on the other side. You had to have your talk. Holy Toledo Batman.

Steam flooded out behind you as you saw Dean leaning down beside your bed to reach underneath.

The world stopped.

“DON’T LOOK UNDER THE BED!” You lunged forward.

“Why no-“

But it was too late.

 Dean had seen it. Your heart stopped.

There was a moment of shocked silence as he slowly pulled out your worst nightmare.

The person sized, brightly coloured, fluffy unicorn you had gotten with your first pay check. Dean was the first person who would ever see you possessed an oversized, fluffy, unicorn, with sparkly hooves and two ears… that squeaked…

It was too big for your single bed so you hid it underneath until it was too cold or you needed extra back support or cuddles, when pillows weren’t enough. There were rumours about it being seen through the window of the dorm building but no one knew who’s it was, until now. Dean had seen it and your short, hardly adult, life was over.

Now Dean’s expression was unreadable as he raised the unicorn, discarded chocolate, lolly and other binge worthy food wrappers falling to the floor like shameful confetti, showing your midnight sins to the world.

“I-I can explain those I swear!” Alas, your exclamation fell on deft ears, for Dean, was not paying attention; he was staring at the unicorn dead on, in a silent internal battel, lips perked as he thought.

There was silence.

“H-his n-name is Blue Steel.” You offered weakly, still hot from the shower now even hotter due to the embarrassment.

Dean’s lips puffed out and cheeks sucked in, one eyebrow rose as he looked to the stitched stars in the unicorn’s eye.

“See the resemblance.” He turned the unicorn to you as he posed showing the similarities.

You were shocked. You laughed. Loudly letting go of the embarrassment, the shame and the worry you let it all melt, as he kept posing, changing angles his handsome face looked like it was on Botox.  

“Oh My Gods!” You were leaning on the door frame for support, your body was on fire and this wasn’t helping. “I’m dying!” You pointed laughing Dean turned away after a moment. You kept laughing until your breathing stopped and your laughter was silent. You gasped out wiping your eyes on your sleeve whilst trying to control the last of your giggles through blurry eyes.

“I know. I have my moments too.” He was all too pleased at your reaction. Chuckling, he put the unicorn on the bed, stroking the snout lightly. That action made your heart melt, such tenderness towards something you loved it was-

Holy fuck he was hot. No wonder you were practically melting everywhere.

He had taken off his jacket and tie, which were now hanging over the back of your chair. He had rolled, up his sleeves, revealing his tan skin and muscular forearms; you noticed a few freckles on them as you watched this arm-porn.

“You alright there?” You swallowed thickly, eyes wide.

“Yeah I’m really impressed…” Your eyes travelled up his arm to his shoulder, you could see the strain against his shirt where it was slightly too tight… “You did an amazing job. The floor is so clean you could eat off of it!” You had to search for something else to say as all the polite conversation files in your mind were burning wildly.

“Yeah? A few stains indicate that you have already.” He chuckled scratching the back of his neck.

“Well I never!” You said in mock outrage, “How could you say- yeah ok, like twice.” You dropped the act. There was more chuckling as you leaned on the door frame just watching him. He sat on your bed and pulled the unicorns head onto his lap stroking the ear for something to do.

“So… My Little Pony?” He looked to you with a smirk and a knowing in those oddly coloured eyes.

“Don’t knock it till you try it?” You suggested. He looked at your unicorn long enough for you to quickly move to the bed and shove the trash back under, now and forever forgotten in the “Self-Pity Pit.” (You may have hid under there on occasion to escape the world)

Dean’s phone rang again; he offered an apologetic half smile, his eyes darkened though. You offered him the bathroom he brushed past lightly and you ignited. Gasping you swayed, heart once again betraying your once _slightly_ cool demeanour. Dean reached his arm out to steady you and that was it. You were looking into his eyes as his phone rang.

You met his eyes and you decided then and there, they were your favourite colour.

 “Sorry babe, gotta take this.” He winked and you died. Well you felt like you were in heaven, you’re sure you weren’t the only person who had Dean winking at them in their heaven… that infuriated you.

And just like that you were angry.

Dean answered his phone, frowning he moved past you from the bathroom out into the hall. You may or may not have still scoped out his ass, _angrily_ , of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hit me... Plz.


	5. A Tribute to Prince.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see how much Y/N means to Dean, with some fluff thrown in.
> 
>  
> 
> Shit about to go down.

“Wait, Sam, slow down. Did you find the bodies?”

“Yes, well no, not exactly.” Sam moved the folders across the desk into the light of the lamp, profiles of five victims, two of which they hadn’t even known about, were in front of him. “The files were hidden in a compartment behind a shelf I bumped into. I have addressees and everything, I took copies of them all but Dean-“The bell of the front door sounded followed by chatter. Sam leapt into action gathering the copies and going through the grimy window of the viewing room, it was hardly a fall to the ground.

“Sam? Sam!” Dean was shouting on the line as Sam held up the phone to his ear.

“It’s alright Dean I’m good, but we have to move.”

“Why what’s going on?”

“I know what’s going to happen next-“ Sam turned a corner “Dean Ima have to call you back.”

“Hello Moose. Fancy seeing you here?”

Was all Dean heard before the line dropped.

He had to tell Y/N he had to go. Pocketing his phone he opened the door what he saw made his heart stop, his jaw drop and all thoughts of Sam leave his mind.

*

Your anger at him made you mad, you were just mad. Why you were mad wasn’t the point.

 You needed to relax.

You found your laptop bag neatly placed on your chest of draws. Opening it you inspected your laptop thoroughly. Your laptop was perfectly fine as well as your class notes. Holding back a sigh of relief, you needed music. Music always helped you calm down.

You sat on your bed deciding which song would be perfect for this situation… but the real question was; Tom Jones or Prince?

It took a second for you to realise Tom Jones was better first date attire; Even though this wasn’t a date, or attire, or logical in anyway… at all. Clicking the Prince link was easy as you grabbed your hairbrush from your draw, you chucked all caution to the wind, he had to get use to this shit, might as well break him in early.

“You don’t have to be beautiful.” You sang religiously, “to turn me on.” You struck a pose to the beat. “I just need your body baby, from dust till dawn.” You rolled your hip in time as you continued singing and grooving to the music. “You don’t need experience,” you turned around, “to turn me out.” eyes closed, you hadn’t heard the door open so you were safe-ish. You couldn’t _exactly_ dance but it made you feel better.

“Really? Prince?” You froze in place eyes flying open; you must have looked ridiculous as the music played, standing at an odd angle, heated from embarrassment, so much for breaking him in early. You watched his tall figure stride over to you, he held out his hand. He had a light tint to his cheeks and he was looking away like he couldn’t believe what he was doing. So you handed him the brush.

“You don’t have to be rich, to be my girl.” He sang, you stepped back to watch clasping your hands to your heart and just watching, “you don’t have to be cool,” he was a truly tone deaf love-muffin-hunk-bunny-teddy-bear-on-steroids but you could feel how your heart sped up as he caught your eye. “To rule my world.” He threw you a wink before grinning, you swooned. You fucking swooned. You snatched the brush from him. Keeping in time and locked with his eyes.

“Ain’t no particular sign I’m more compatible with,” you placed your hand on his chest and moved close, “I just need your extra time and your” you pushed away and twirled pointing a finger gun at him you fired “Kiss.” You winked and slid backwards tripping over your own feet and falling to the ground butt first.

“Shit! Are you alright?” You felt hands on you pulling you up. The pain was worth it.

“Worth it.” You mumbled. There was a chuckle before you felt something springy under your now throbbing ass. He had moved you to your bed and was looking at your face for damage.

“I take it you do that a lot?” the smugness was not lost on you.

“Dance and hair brush solos? Yes. Falling over onto my Ass? Also yes. But in my defence it _is_ normally my face I land on.”

He laughed again, you just took the second to study his face the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, the way his nose scrunches, which freckles are hidden by the shadows of his lashes, annoyingly pretty eyelashes.

He opened his eyes and the colour shone something different. You realised you were staring and blushed.

“Shit s-s-sorry!” Stammering out an apology you moved back on the bad. “I have like, major personal space issues sometimes.”

“I have a friend like that, you’ll get along fine.” He patted your knee in reassurance.

You scratched the back of your neck, “Well ya see here’s the thing. I don’t actually like people.” You looked up at Dean, you could see he didn’t believe you. “No, wait I’m serious!” You didn’t exactly plead but whining would explain that statement. “People are really mean, and I work in retail so I know what’s up.”

He took a second to ponder what you said before moving close to you. You flushed as he leaned in putting his arms beside you. “Uh… what-what are you doing?”

_“I was going to hold my uh- my soulmate if-if that’s alright with you?”_

“Y/N? You ok? You went off again.” Dean was waving his hand in front of your face. Blinking and face flushing hotter you straightened.

“Oh- yup, yup, yup sure! You say something?”

“Yes, May I borrow your laptop?”

“Oh-Oh! Sure go for it.” He grabbed it from behind you and sat on the bad with it on his lap. “Here use this.” You passed him your unicorn, the bed creaking angrily, he looked at you in question, you rolled your eyes and demonstrated with the wall how to sit with it like a cushion. “Did you think he was _just_ here for emergency cuddles and decoration?”

“I-I think I stopped questioning your reasoning the moment I saw you.” He looked at you kindly, the screen lighting his face as he settled in. You fiddled with a loose thread on your jammies.

“Yeah, I can be a little _overwhelming_.” The thread was interesting and picking at it was a good way to hide the new emotions which were now sitting in your throat.

You felt a hand on your back then hip pulling you along the bed.

“Hey what?”

“Just come here.”

He pulled you closer to his side. The way unicorn was positioned was very uncomfortable, you just wiggled around for a moment before he puffed out a breath and pulled you onto his lap.

“Eep!” Squeaking was that noise was called. “I don’t want to hurt you.” You tried to wiggle off but you sank down between his thighs with your beck on his chest. You had never been more comfortable, so you stopped struggling and relaxed.

“Sitting on me doesn’t hurt Y/N.” he said leaning down onto you like he had done this a million times.

“But I’m heavy.” You looked down at your lap watching the pony’s stretch out for miles.

“You are really something else you know that?”

You looked at your legs for a moment. “Yeah _something_ ” what were you feeling…. Guilt?

You leaned back into him feeling awful.

“’She is delightfully chaotic; a beautiful mess -“’ you felt your brain ping in recognition as your core ignited.

“’ loving her is a splendid adventure…’ where the hell did you read that?” you were hoping your surprise masked your arousal.

“What? I clean your room and I’m _not_ meant to read anything?” He pulled back slightly looking offended.

“Not that, _anything_ but that! Never quote him to me again.” You placed your hand to your forehead in melodramatic betrayal, trying to destrat from what was happening inside you…. what you _wanted_ to happen inside you.

“Why not?”

“Because well because…Yeah well, ‘we all make mistakes, have struggles, and even regret things in our past. But you are not your mistakes, you are not your struggles and you are here _now_ with the power to your day and your future.’ See Doctor Steve Maraboli said that _he_ gets me.” You wiggled uncomfortably trying to will away the dampness you had caused. If you heard his voice utter another line of those quotes you would probably lick his face to make him stop. His face and.., other things

“So you don’t want me quoting ‘Steve Maraboli?’” He questioned confusing lining his features.

“Doctor!”

“Sorry “Doctor” Steve Maraboli -because he gets you?” You forgave his eye roll.

You looked up to him with big eyes.

“Yes.”

“Damnit!” He leaned into you to retrieve the laptop, “If I don’t find out what colour your eyes are I’m going to explode.”

You giggled and snuggled into him as he placed the laptop on your lap caging you in with his arms on either side and his chin on the crook of your neck.

“Basic colour for dummies it is then.” You giggling again before tying in your password, relaxing into the feel of him breathing behind you. You could feel his breath catch.

“Impala67?” A whisper almost.

“So I have a car fetish?…”  you defended unsure.

“A pretty specific fetish?”

“Pfft, don’t kink shame me ya little bitch. Bitch please like you even know.” You rolled your eyes opening a new tab.

“I’ll have you know, I do know.” Teasing as he snuggled in. It was then you noticed his smell, musky with a hint of coffee and leather, very clean and… sexy…. Sex, he was sex, Dean was sex… Sex.

“Oh bite me Bambi and google the colour chart.” You moved your hands from the keypad in case they betrayed you.

There was silence. You realised you didn’t quite know where to put your hands.

“How many years have you been waiting to sass someone with that line?” You laughed.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“That bad huh?” teasing again you could hear that smile.

“On the plus side it’s still _technically_ new material because I’ve never used it before.”

“Is there anything I should be warned about now?”

“Nah I figured if you were gonna run you would have done it by now.”

There was a moment of silence.

“You really think that?” You couldn’t place his tone but you felt his stiffen.

“Well… yeah… I mean I’ve shown you more of myself in,” you checked the time on your laptop. “Three hours, than what I have shown the people I have known for six years-“

“That’s not what I- What I mean is- you thought I would run away?” Bemused.

You had to think about that for a moment.

“I-I… I don’t actually think so… I had a moment where I thought I better break you in to the chaotic randomness that are my many mood swings and relaxation techniques but I never actually thought you would _run_.” You were actually honest. And rather shocked.

“And this surprises you?”

“A little yeah, also impresses me a lot though.” There was a moment where all you could hear was each other’s breathing. Feeling the rise and fall of his chest was therapeutic. His chuckle broke you out of your resolve.

“Do you really think that your dancing would scare me off? I mean if you call wiggling dat ass, as dancing… And I mean, your music taste is questionable-“

“You take that back!” You turned your head to face him. Big mistake. You were close _very_ close.

You watched his eyes flick to you lips.

“I’ll tell you what.” He spoke softly his eyes meeting yours once again, pleading.

“Mmm?” you all but squeaked, you tried to avoid the temptation of his eyes but the only way you could avoid them was by looking at those lips… oh lord those lips.

“liusten to real music.” You watched his lips form every word the way they puckered over the bends and phrases. The speaker’s blasted. Jumping you saw YouTube playing full bore on your laptop. The sounds of A.C.D.C’s Back in Black streaming through the speakers. You hardly noticed your hands on your chest willing your heart to still.

“Back in black, I hit the sack-“he sang, typeding “Colors for Dummies.” As he did so.

So with A.C.D.C blasting in the background you studied the colours on the screen.

You took an instant liking to blues, silver, golds, anything bright and green. Gods did you loved green. The many tones and concentrations, every flicker of each one a small part of Dean’s eyes. After a while you just leaned back and watched Dean who was intently watching the screen, scrolling through the rainbow blur looking for something specific then he froze. You felt his body seize and the atmosphere thicken. Blinking away your confusion you looked to the screen.

Red.

You froze too. The stiffness you felt in Dean and the way the atmosphere just changed completely. You felt his jaw tick. You followed his eyes and saw what he saw.

Blood red.

His jaw ticking drew your eyes back. You could feel him getting twitchy and a pang of panic shot up. He was going to leave. There was only one thing you could do and you had wanted secretly to do it for a while now. So you held your breath drew up the courage and.

You licked his face.

 It was salty and his stubble felt funny but you did it… there was no going back. This was kinda your first kinda sexual, kinda not sexual, touch and it was exciting. You watched Dean carefully he was shocked. He was just blinking.

“Uh… What was… what was that?” You shrugged before closing the laptop. “Y/N?” You weren’t sure if it was a warning but his tone suggested seriousness. “There is something I have to talk to you about… it’s… you won’t believe me but-“your cell rang causing you both to jump.

The fact it was your cell should have been warning enough.


	6. Chapter 6: Why Is It Always Stairs?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternately Titled: Should Have Taken The Elevator.
> 
> Dean-Reader-Trouble-Snickers-Breaking the speed limit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is Dedicated to Kat_in_the_Hat.
> 
> Yeah that's right. I thought of you as i Wrote this.... That didn't sound creepy at ALL.
> 
> I"M SORRY, LOVE MEEEEE!

“I’m so sorry! Can it wait just a second?” You apologized with a breathless choke, when did you stop breathing? It wasn’t _entirely_ your fault. You couldn’t help but stare. Your eyes found themselves drawn to his face again, his sharp jaw, the curve of his nose, the light dusting of his freckles- your phone chirped louder, fright caused the embarrassment to flood your face, looking away slightly ashamed, you were rude.

So, fucking rude.

Staring at people just because you fucking could… _idiot_.

“Yeah,” his own blush beginning to colour those perfect cheek bones, “I mean,” you almost drooled at the way his bicep flexed under his shirt as he scratched the back of his neck, positively sinful. “I should probably get back to work anyway.”

 Dean must have found your phone somewhere in your room as he was cleaning, now it sat next to the charger on 5% battery… bloody typical, you could have sworn you hadn’t forgotten about it last night.

As you untangled yourself from Dean, you felt how cold the room really was. His embrace falling away from you, a security you had never felt before now ripped away, all so you could answer that fucking phone. You had to push back the unexpected loneliness which came with standing on your own- So much for the “Strong Independent Woman” two chapters ago ae Y/N.- _regardless,_ you still _tried_ to keep the hurt out of your voice.

“Yeah, good point. I mean, five missing persons? Must have you run off your asses.” The crack in the screen became apparent as The Teen Wolf opening theme blasted loudly. The name “!!!Becky!!!” was big and bold on the screen. Oh boy.

“What did you-“ you held up a finger so he could hold that thought.

“Y/N speaking.” You rolled your eyes to indicate your annoyance.

“Y/N!” Becky screamed your name amongst heavy panting. “Y/N IT’S BECKY!” You quickly moved the phone away from your ear.

“Uh, Ow! I know! Thank Gods for caller I.D am I right?” The line was cracking in and out so you put her on speaker to avoid another ear attack. You shot an apologetic look at Dean who was slowly putting on his blazer, pretending not to be interested. Mouthing sorry, the line cracked back on.

“-NEVERMIND! Y/N GET OUT OF YOUR APARTMENT NOW!” Her voice was shrill in her panic.

Your blood ran cold. “wha-“

“GET OUT NOW! I’M ON MY WAY!” The line went dead.

You looked to Dean. He was just as shocked as you were.

“Maybe we should- GET DOWN!” Dean lunged forwards throwing you both to the ground painfully, just as your window imploded. You were winded under him, pinned belly us as chaos erupted, you looked past him to see the ceiling cracking. Dean quickly grabbed you up, looking over his shoulder, he pushed you a head of him. Everything was moving too fast for you to do anything except follow his lead. You headed straight for the door Dean hot on your heels as you burst into the corridor. Dean shot past you, without thinking you reached for the door handle, catching the last glimpse of your room as a huge shadow began climbing its way through the hole in your wall. It looked like a scaly octopus with clubfoot.

 Grabbing the door handle you slammed it shut- _fat lot of good closing the door will do against an angry cephalopod with flat feet Y/N._ You didn’t get a chance to inhale before Dean grabbed your hand and you were off.

“Where are the stairs?” His question was calm with only his eyes betraying him, the wilderness was alive in his alert eyes shifting, thinking, hunting for a way out; a complete contradiction from the A.C.D.C loving, cuddle bunny who was content and happy not two minutes ago.

“Down to the left!” You were a mess but you began running together, just making it to the stairs before the loudest noise you have ever heard rocked the world around you. The deep throated roar of whatever-the-fuck it was, shook everything, you tried to hold onto the hand rail for balance but Dean tightened his grip on your hand while pulling you closer, using himself as your hold.

All you had to do was hold his hand, no matter how much you stumbled or panicked you just had to hold his hand.

You could do this.

Despite the short moment of reprieve tears began blurring your vision as the roar turned to buzzing in your skull, you pushed past the pain to keep pace with Dean taking as many steps as you could without dying. Dean was your guide in this, all you could feel was the blood beating through your veins and your hand in his.

 Despite everything, you found yourself shouting the question, “ _What the fuck is that_?”

Not missing a beat, “I have no idea! But its pissed!”

 Your pace didn’t break as you neared the final flight.

 “For Fuck Sake! Just have a Snickers!” You tried grinning at him but your teeth were too sore from the shock of knocking together with every too large step.

Dean couldn’t bite back his bitter laugh

“Really not the time Y/N.”

You took on his advice and concentrated on fleeing for your life. The adrenalin had almost worn off as you stepped through the doors into the lobby. You were still breathless as Dean half dragged, half pushed you into the open space. Dean stopped suddenly, you used the stop to catch up on breathing. Shorth, sharp pulls of air were helping the ache in your ears feel better you hardly noticed the tense atmosphere as Dean started moving again. Slowly.

 “Y/N. Stay Behind me.” The waring was clear in the hushed whisper, the new pace he set gave you pause. You looked at his big hand around yours his knuckles white with the effort of staying with you, you squeezed his hand back and looked up. The noise that left you was almost inhuman, your free hand covered your mouth. He followed your shocked eyes looking up as well he flinched away. The lights began to flicker, casting the body hanging from the ceiling in shadow. Seeing someone suspended by their own organs, it is a sight you will never un-see. The wet dripping snapped you back to reality.

“I’m so sorry Y/N.” Remorse tainted his apology as if he had done this himself. You nodded back tears and took a breath as you slowly kept moving. As you tried to avoid the crimson puddles, you studied how Dean was moving using precise skill, all his senses tuned to see, hear, know where the _monster_ is.

 Distracted you misstepped, sticky wetness seeped between your toes, your entire body shuddered, Dean was still with you, you reluctantly moved on with an unwanted texture to every step. You pushed how it was still warm to the back of your mind. Your breathing was still coming in laboured puffs, you tried breathing through your mouth to avoid the heavy scent of blood, gaging again at your mistake, the taste was fresh and metallic. The lights went from out, to too bright, to too dark and back again, there was no point trying to adjust to them. You were almost free of this hell hole. Dean had his phone out taking photos of the body and the blood decorating it, a gory frame for your new nightmares. You could feel the cold dead gaze of the victims unmoving eyes above you as Dean’s hand reached for the door.

_I’m so sorry Mary._

Another roar sounded, you screamed again as Dean pulled you outside. Tripping on the step, stubbing your toe, falling into Dean as the glass shattered around you again. Dean used his body as your shield. You were white knuckling the shirt on his chest buttons popping in your trembling hands, the squeak of breaks and the roar of the engine sounded. What the fuck was happening? What was going on? You didn’t have a second to think before Dean was opening a car door shoving you inside.

 “Becky!?” Dean’s question was drowned out by another Roar

“Explanations later.” Becky cried blonde hair a halo of anxiety as she watched us climb into the back.  

“DRIVE!”

“Oh right!” Becky went from flustered to deadly serious in 0.5 as she floored it. The car stalled. “AHHHHH!” Becky screamed trying to get the car started again. You rested your back against the door. The sound of twisting metal, you fell backwards screaming, looking up into the eyes of a sneak. You threw a punch upwards in pure terror. A gun shot, the monster flinched, the car pulled away in a squeal of rubber.

Dean pulled you inside as best as the angle would allow. Back flat on the middle seat, you were uncomfortable but alive. Waves of terror sending spikes through your horrified body as the wind whipped what hair it could in every direction. You almost fell out the door hole when Becky rounded a corner. Dean placed a hand on your torso holding you down onto the seat, keeping you out of sight and still. Bending your knees, so the wind wouldn’t nip at your toes as much, you tried to get comfortable by moving your head onto Dean’s lap.

There was silence as you all took a moment to process what the fuck just happened… _snake heads… not tentacles._

“I’m heading to the first hotel in the phone book…” Becky was the first to break the silence but hesitated before continuing, “Sam… should meet us there, you j-just need to give him a heads up ok D-Dean… Dean?” She finished carefully catching his eye in the rear-view mirror.

You looked up at him suddenly afraid he would disappear. Why he would disappear was beyond you but you had a feeling that if someone was going to fade from your life it was going to be after a lizard head tore the fucking door off your best friend’s car.

“Yeah, I can do that.” The gruffness in his reply was not lost on you. “Sorry, babe.” Apologizing as he had to shift so he could get his phone out of his pants pocket, it was then you noticed it was your phone, the confusion must have shown on your face. “Your phone was closer than mine, I was able to grab it just before I tackled you,” he explained apologetically, the wind catching some of his words as he typed in a number. “Don’t you ever charge your phone?”

“I have one!” Becky squeaked as she reached open the glovebox. Cords of different colours fell out all over the passenger seat, it sounded like a mess. When she finally connected the phone to the charger she realised she could begin driving at normal, legal, speed.

“Thanks.” It was gruff and short and barely sincere but at least it was a thank you. The car fell into silence again after Dean sent away your destination.

You watched Dean staring straight ahead, after a moment, you saw his jaw tick. You finally felt yourself beginning to relax. After the last of the fear was slowly fading away into shock the cool air started blasting through your jammies. Flannelette could only do so much. You moved slightly closer to Dean, that’s when you caught his gaze.

Dean eyes locked with yours, the shimmering green portraying his every thought to you, the intensity had you alert but you softened as you saw the regret begin to seep through. As if on its own accord your hand reached up slowly, you didn’t know it was shaking but when you caressed his cheek you felt solid again. His light stubble and warmth a welcome sensation against your cold palm.

Surprise ghosted his expression for just a moment, he closed his eyes. You felt the soft weight of him as he accepted your touch. And this is how you would flee; Your head resting on your soulmates lap as your hand held his head, your thumb lightly tracing his perfect lips, lips so perfect you’re sure someone, somewhere would have written stories about them.

 When he opened his eyes again, it was just to look at you. You moved your free hand to your chest, feeling the fabric twitching under your palm. To be able to feel this heart beat was a reminder, you were alive. You used the hand on your chest to gently take Dean’s hand closest to you, and placed his hand over your heart under your own. His eyes were sceptical, so you just held it there, the angle was terrible and your legs were cramping but you were alive, you just had to remind Dean that you were ok. Sore and permanently traumatized but ok. His thumb began twitching under your palm, gently patting out the silent beat. A rhythm for just the two of you.

 You couldn’t say anything and neither could he. Not that either of you wanted to.

 His eyes told you there was no going back, you saw a little piece of him break at that… so you did the one thing you could do… you smiled. It was a small bitter sweet smile, more of an upturn of the corners of your mouth but you kept your eyes soft trying without words to tell him it was ok. He turned his face into your palm, keeping his eyes together with yours, his soft lips twitched in response, before his eyes closed again. And Just like that… your heart sped up at your very own silent conversation.

“You guys are so cute!’ Shrieking in awe, you had forgotten Becky had no verbal filter. Your hand fell from Deans face. The moment was gone.

_Thanks Becky._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...
> 
> ...
> 
> ...
> 
> i'm super sorry dudes...  
> Thank you for still reading tho...
> 
> Love you Dudes!!!


End file.
